


Don't Ring

by thatdragonchic



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Newt is a doctor, References to Depression, Romantic Fluff, Thomas is an olympian, newtmas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: Thomas comes home to find Newt sleeping on the couch but Newt denies that he was sleeping at all because he's still on call at the hospital (modern newtmas! Newt is a surgeon, they're like 28 ish in this!)





	Don't Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Amanda was sad and so I'm here to make her leSS SAD  
> the queen of fluff, here to take care of her friends

Newt was fast asleep on the couch in their apartment, Thomas walking in from his press conference to find him there, still in his button up and khakis, the tv on, his phone on the floor, arm dangling, and one of his legs too. The News was reporting something about turmoil in the states, while Newt peacefully slept. He creeps closer, quietly, before draping a blanket over Newt and turning off the TV. 

“What are you doing?” Newt mumbles. “M’watchin,” he says, accent thicker than it used to be. 

“You’re dead asleep,” Thomas whispers.

“M’not. ‘M on call,” he mutters sleepily, bleary eyes squinting. 

“On call? You got off of work.”

“Bloody bloke got sick and I had to cover for a few hours if they called.” Thomas checks his work phone to find no calls. Newt’s a light sleeper anyways, he would’ve known. 

“When are you off call?”

“3.30 AM?”

“It’s like 12…”

Newts head falls back. “How was your press thing?”

“It was good… lots of talking about stupid things. They want to know the intimate details of life, your regiments and diets. Like I don’t know, I just run a lot.”

“Yeah you do, that’s all you do,” Newt says laughing. “Wake up? You run. Go to class? Run there. Coaching? You run with the kids you coach. Wild, absolutely wild.”

“I’m not wild.”

“You are, who likes running that much?”

“Me…?”

“Oh you’re crazy,” he mutters tiredly. “Let’s watch a movie. Keep me awake.”

“Did you want me to order dinner, did you eat?”

“Eat?” Newt looks confused before shaking his head. “I had a cigarette in the car so I forgot.” Cigarettes often make a person feel full. “Coffee and take out.”

“What do you want?”

“Chicken and lo mein sounds good. I’ll make coffee.”

“And get the rubbing alcohol.”

“What why?”

“You have a blood stain on your elbow.”

“Really?”

Thomas nods. Newt sighs. “Coffee?” Newt asks.

“Please.”

Newt trods off towards the back of the house, where their kitchen is tucked away. He grabs the pot, he fills it with water, 8 cups, because you’re sure as hell stupid if you think Newt can have one mug and stay up the next 3 and a half hours. Do you know how long he’s been awake? Just last night he performed an 8 hour surgery, and then he went right to shadowing a heart surgery for his second PhD. He’s exhausted, and he’s talked to too many people. He’s blabbed on about one too many medications, so many medications his brain is overdosed with the names of the pills and the pains of the people. He’s not sure if one of his patients are going to live, he doesn’t meant for his throat to tighten this way. He startles when Thomas touches his waist. 

“Hey it’s just me.” 

Newt nods and his eyes shut as Thomas kisses his temple. “I’m okay. Just really tired.”

“Deep breath.” 

Thomas takes one and Newt smiles, mimicking him. Their bodies rising and falling together. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, Thomas kissing him. 

“You deserve every second of my time and every ounce of my patient.” 

Newt leans into Thomas for another kiss before pulling away to pour the water in the back of the coffee machine, then he replaces the ground coffee in the filter. Thomas calls the takeout place. He gets them both dinner and Newt leans against the counter, eyes spacy, hair drifting into his eyes. The only melody was the dripping of the coffee into the pot. It ticks into the pot, in slow, sure drips, backing up with water every few minutes, static noise. Thomas leans in beside him. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“I hate not being able to save some people.” 

“Sometimes it’s just how things are.”

“I wish it wasn’t.”

“People come, people go.”

“Then what’s the point? What was their purpose?”

“That’s not our job, to decide what purpose is.”

Newt nods, slowly. “I guess not.”

“I’m sorry babe.”

“I shadowed a heart surgery.”

“Right, I forgot about that. How’d it go?”

“It was so cool.”

Newt laughs and Thomas laces their hands. Newt leans his head on Thomas’ shoulder, eyes slowly shutting. “You’re sleeping.”

Newt just barely shakes his head.

“You are.”

“Nnn?”

He thinks its meant to be no but Newt is neither coherent nor awake. The coffee pot alarm goes off and he jolts awake. 

“Just go to bed, you’ll hear your phone.”

“I can’t… I gotta… stay awake,” he says between yawns. Thomas squints at him before grabbing him by the waist and picking Newt off the ground. Newt yells, grabbing Thomas arm.

“Shit~! What the hell?”

“I was waking you up,” Thomas says, spinning him and Newt laughs, head tilting back to tap his head into Thomas’ forehead. 

“Let go!” He says between giggles, trying to wiggle free. “Let go! Thomas!”

He’s laughing though and Thomas puts him down, but holds him tight, kissing down the back of his neck. “Are you up yet?”

“I’m up, I’m up.” 

Thomas tugs Newt’s shirt a bit, the two just swaying and he’s half expecting to be tickled but instead Thomas turns on the radio. “It’s past 11 so all the music is either emo or crap.”

“This is Mr. Brightside, are you telling me the best song known to man is crap?”

“It’s emo!”

“It’s a masterpiece!” 

It ends and 26 by paramore starts. Thomas slumps. “This is depressing.”

“It’s my favorite song,” Newt whispers, taking Thomas in his arms. They sway slowly. “After all wasn’t I the one who said to keep your feet on the ground..? Man you really brought me back down,” he sings along softly. And listen, if anybody else said this song was their favorite, it wouldn’t matter. But Newt has a history, and he knows how much it means to him, how he’s probably cried so many times in the dark with his headphones in to this song. How many times the lyrics  _ when you gonna hear me out  _ echoed through his whole body with anger. He knows he was the cause of some of that anger and frustration, he knows that a lot of it is things he can’t fix. Newt’s favorite thing is about somehow staying hopeful because without hope, there’s nothing. Newt so often felt like nothing. Then Tongue tied starts playing and Newt lights up.

“This is a good song.”

Thomas laughs. Newt goes to pour the coffee. Thomas unbuttons Newt’s shirt, pulling it out of where it’s tucked in. Newt is left in his undershirt, pants and an unbuttoned top. “Let me clean it.”

“Fine.”

He puts the cream and sugar in his coffee and leans back against the counter. This time with his coffee. Time is passing by very slowly. 

The take out comes ten minutes later. They sit with their chopsticks, eating. After they eat they clean up and pack the leftovers and Newt just goes to the bed, plopping himself there on the edge. He rolls over and hugs the pillows. Thomas watches with a careful eye, watching as Newt hugs the pillow. 

“It’s almost 2…”

“Almost,” Newt agrees. He’s tired all over again and he keeps his phone right next to him. He looks at it.  _ Don’t ring don’t ring don’t ring.  _ Thomas moves into the bed with him and kisses him softly. 

“Gonna sleep?”

“I can’t.”

“Take a shower.”

“What if the phone rings?”

Nervous tics, that’s what this was. He stays awake out of the anxiety of missing it, thomas recognizes it’s sort of like torturing himself. He kisses Newt and Newt kisses back. It’s long, drawn out, slow. Their bodies sway, Newt’s hands folded between them. His finger tips brush right over where Thomas’ heart might be, as if making sure it’s there. He presses a palm against his chest, not to stop him but just to feel his pulse. In depth fascination, Thomas has come to recognize it as. Newt is so indepthly fascinated with his science that he tries to be close to it, somehow Thomas has become a subject of science to Newt, an in depth fascination. He was the beating heart that kept Newt anchored to earth, he was the lungs that gave breath like the moons gravitational pull to the ocean. He was the mind that provided Newt with calmness in calamity. He was strong muscle that kept Newt safe at night. Quiet voice that lulled Newt to sleep. Newt kisses him and when he parts they just breathe. In depth fascination provides that Newt will leave a hand against Thomas’ throat, just to make sure their air passes. Kisses are the study of love, laughter between them is psychology of happiness. Newt wants to know it all, in regards to Thomas, his personal case study. 

Thomas recognizes that the radio in the kitchen is still on. He lets it be, Newt nuzzling into his neck. And slowly, Newt falls asleep. The phone doesn’t ring and he silently thanks whoever decides not to call Newt that night because god Newt needed sleep. 


End file.
